


Tilting the Looking Glass

by donutsweeper



Series: Telepathic Talks [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Torchwood
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Other, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-27
Updated: 2012-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-04 09:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/392465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutsweeper/pseuds/donutsweeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was a bleakness, a brokenness, to Jack that the Doctor wished he could fix.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tilting the Looking Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Set post "Children of Earth", but containing no specific spoilers to any events that occurred.

The Doctor leaned back and put his feet up on the console. He closed his eyes and let the soothing sounds of the TARDIS seep into his bones. It felt good to relax; opportunities to do so were becoming more and more rare it seemed. Unconsciously, his mind began to wander, picking up on something achingly familiar out there somewhere, a telepathic tendril he recognized. A niggling notion of someone he knew.

Anger. Despair. Loneliness. The Doctor reached out telepathically, trying to get a better sense of who it was and if they needed him. Or what it was they needed. Then it came to him. Jack. He almost pulled back then, unwilling to push, but there was such bleakness there. 

_Jack?_ The Doctor called out. When there was no response he vaguely considered trying to pinpoint Jack in time and space with the TARDIS instead; he was fairly certain she'd be able to find Jack's unique signature no matter where or when he was. _Jack?_

_Go away, Doctor._ The reply was quiet, but firm; the sensation of being pushed away and disregarded combined.

_When are you, Jack?_ With Jack there was no telling. He focused on the essence, the nebulousness that represented Jack. _I'll come find you._

_No!_ There was a shuddering sensation and then Jack was there, practically solid, as if standing in the TARDIS right next to the Doctor, instead of being galaxies and millennia away.

"You've gotten better at this," the psi-equivalent of the Doctor said, reaching out to brush his fingers against Jack's sleeve. 

"I've had a lot of time to practice," Jack replied, taking a step away, moving himself just out of the Doctor's reach.

"I suppose you have," the Doctor tried to keep the worry out of his voice. Jack looked terrible, cheeks sunken, eyes dull. Empty. Hollow. A person's psi-equivalent tended to present itself to others in the way they personally thought of themselves. For Jack to appear like this was not a good sign. "Fancy an adventure? Are you still in Cardiff? I could pop over and pick you up."

"No. I don't and I'm not." Jack skittered around the console, putting it between him and the Doctor. "And I don't need your pity or your cloying concern. I never did."

"Jack," the Doctor said softly, carefully. This was not the Jack he knew best. His lovable rogue was gone, or was hiding at least. Only the wounded con man remained. "You came here, talk to me."

"If I didn't you would have come looking for me. I figured this was the only way to get you to stay away." 

"Now, that's not fair, Jack." The Doctor started to slowly ease his ease his way closer to Jack, step by step around the console, trying to bridge the gap between them. "I've never overstayed my welcome with you. In fact, the last two times we met you left me and I let you go."

"It's easy to let someone go when you don't want to face them. When you'd do anything if you didn't have to see the guilt and pain in their eyes."

"What? Jack, what are you talking about?" Jack tried to move away again, but the Doctor grabbed Jack, his fingers gripping the familiar coat tightly, forcing Jack to stay where he was as he surged his telepathic energy forward, preventing Jack from leaving and breaking the psychic bond they shared. "No. I won't let you leave like this, not when you're in this state."

"Don't do this, Doctor," Jack warned, his voice low and cold. "You won't like the result."

"And what result would that be?" the Doctor asked teasingly. "Forcing you to talk to me? I never had a problem getting you to speak about whatever it was that's bothering you so. There's something wrong, Jack. I can help. I want to help. You know that."

"Oh, do I?" Jack snorted, shaking his head. "The great and powerful Doctor. Always there when he's needed. Except when he's not. Gwen was right about you."

"Gwen? She's one of your team, yes? Why would she... What happened, Jack?"

But Jack didn't answer. Instead he surged forward, trapping the Doctor between himself and the console. Jack was strong on this telepathic plane, much stronger psychically than any human the Doctor had ever encountered. Stronger than the Doctor had expected. Jack leaned in and kissed the Doctor. And then, taking advantage of the Doctor's surprise, his shock, he began unbuttoning his shirt. "You want to help? You really want to help?"

"Jack." The angle being an awkward one, even when in his psi-form, the Doctor tried, but found he couldn't push Jack away.

"You want this, Doctor. You've always wanted it." Jack licked the Doctor's neck, nibbling on his pulse point.

"Not like this, Jack. Even you don't want it like this. It isn't real."

Jack tilted his head, his eyes dark. "It's as real as anything ever is. As real as I ever am." 

"This isn't you, Jack." The Doctor's voice was calm. Slowly he brought his hand up and cupped Jack's cheek. "I don't know what happened, but I know _you._ I saw through your flash the first day I met you, don't you think I can see through this as well?"

"I'm capable of hurting you," Jack replied, running his hand down the Doctor's chest and starting to undo his belt. "More than capable."

"But you won't." It was said plainly, as if a statement of fact. "You're a better man than that."

Jack stopped, his hand freezing where he was. His psi-self wavered as he choked out, "Doctor." 

"I know you, Jack Harkness. Better than you know yourself." He stroked Jack's cheek, pretending not to notice the flinches at his touch. "I believe in you and nothing you can do will change that. Nothing."

"You don't know what I've done."

"No matter what you've done -- or whatever it is you _think_ you've done -- you are still the same man I've known and respected all these years."

Jack huffed, his shoulders sinking as his anger deflated, emanating off of him in nearly visible waves. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you needed me, Jack, but I'm here now. Let me come to you."

For a few minutes neither one of them spoke before Jack admitted, "I'm not ready for that, Doctor. Maybe, someday I will be. But not now. Not yet." Jack moved away slightly, his psi-self shifting and then shimmering out of phase. _Let me go, Doctor. Please._

The Doctor nodded and relaxed, letting Jack slip away. _I'll be here when you're ready. I promise._

There was no obvious reply from Jack, just the slightest of sense of acceptance of that, and perhaps a touch of relief. Reluctantly, the Doctor opened his eyes. He'd done all he could, offering a port in the storm; it would be up to Jack to make the next move.


End file.
